The Disney 85th Victory Tour
by Mwagner11
Summary: Belle is the winner of the Hunger Games and although she wants nothing more than to forget it all, just as she's resuming her former provincial life, she is forced to go on the Victory Tour. New horrors, challenges, and fears await her but even more chilling is that her life isn't quite out of danger-someone still wants Belle dead and it's not a tribute.


I sit in my new home with my father, positioned near the fireplace, a book in my hands. It's a tale about two adventurers, a man and a woman, who fight for their kingdom, killing off bandits and monsters until they reach their goal. They are then happily married. I smile softly as I close the cover.

When I was little, I had always wished for a magical romantic adventure but in my heart, I knew that the Hunger Games would be the only thing even close to that.

The Hunger Games.

That dark place that still gives me nightmares, haunting me in my dreams. The lifeless bodies of Rapunzel, Teddy, Merida. I've grieved beyond measure over the noble lives that were lost.

As a victor, after the tour, I will have to mentor tributes.

I can't bear the thought of it! Just too awful. Much too awful. Getting to know people, then shoving them into a death trap.

Why is the Capitol so cruel? "Are you alright, Belle?" my father says, sitting next to me.

"Yes Papa, I'm fine," I say and kiss my father on the cheek, setting my book near the mantel. We've gotten to move into a big beautiful home and over the few months, it's just been the two of us. But I long to start over again, erase the Games from my mind.

But I doubt that will ever happen. The Victory Tour begins tomorrow and I will travel alone to all the districts, facing the parents of the children I've allowed to killed.

I didn't kill anyone technically, although the Capitol accounted me for Merida's death.

But the grieving parents will still blame me-I can already see the glowing hatred on their faces. "Be strong," I whisper to myself. But I'm not Merida. I'm not fearless. My fears still plague me-how can I face them? Convincing myself to be brave is one thing. But maybe I can convince myself to not be afraid. They are two very different things.

I must not be afraid-I must show the Capitol that I am strong and that they have not changed me.

I ascend the stairs and my father asks me where I'm going.

"I have a speech to write," I say miserably and enclose myself in my room.

* * *

I wake up, sweaty, my brown hair hanging in clumps all over my face. Taking a deep breath, I roll out of bed, and dress into blue dress with a white apron, my hair up in a ponytail. I know that my stylist will fix me up later so right now, I'm not too worried about appearances.

My bag is packed with books and clothes. But mostly books. I take one out to read on my way to the train.

My father embraces me and whispers in my ear "Good luck." He became sick during the Hunger Games, very sick. His neighbors took care of him and ever since I got back, his face has returned to its former rosy glow.

I nod, too choked up to speak, and step out the door and into Victor's Village. Everywhere I look, there is metal shining back at me. People smile and wave and I try to smile back. District 3 hasn't won the Games in a while and they were very impressed when I did.

"There must be more than this provincial life," I sing under my breath. "I must overcome it, overcome my strife!" Seeing the train up ahead, I race toward it before people can crowd around me.

"*I want so much more than the Victor's Village! I want to run around happily! Free at last I know, is a dream that can never be sown, but I might as well keep it in my heart*" ** (Picture those words to the tune "There goes the baker with his tray like always")**

My stylist, Armigardi, and my mentor, Spinka are waiting for me. "Hurry Belle!" Armigardi says and yanks me onto the train. Already, people are waving goodbye, shouting, laughing. My stylist shuts the door rather abruptly and turns to face me.

Armigardi is a man with bright blue hair and lots of orange makeup. Today, he's wearing a studded silver outfit and I cringe-whenever I look at him, its like staring directly into the sun, hurtful and too bright. "Mademoiselle Belle!" he exclaims and kisses me on both cheeks. "Vis is a miracle! So happy you are alive!" His accent is thick-when I first met him, I had to listen carefully to actually understand him.

I can't help but smile and laugh. "Oh believe me, I am too!" Part of me disregards Armigardi as stuck up and caught up in Capitol pride, but the other part of me admires him for his childishness and optimism. When I was about to go into the arena, he repeatedly told me that I was going to survive this.

Spinka seizes my wrist. "Goodness, Belle, what are you wearing? We must get you fixed up!"

"Vat is my job," Armigardi says and Spinka rolls his eyes.

"Whatever. Come on, Belle. First stop, District 12." He yanks me along a corridor and leads me to a luxurious suite with a wide bed and nightstand, a bathroom to my right. He slams the door and I have to fight to roll my eyes. Spinka does have a flair for dramatic exits.

I disrobe in the bathroom, stepping into the shower and letting the warm water drape around me, falling in a very comfortable curtain. My head tilted up, I don't want it to stop, the rush of water flowing down my neck and back. Finally, reality catches up and I step out, then dry off with a spotless white towel and dress into a white bathrobe.

When I step out, Armigardi is waiting for me. He gestures to some fresh undergarments. "Put vese on, then come back out." I obey him, put on the undergarments along with a silver wrap that goes from my shoulders to my knees.

When I step back out, he takes a deep breath. "You are going to look stunning, Mademoiselle! Now here is ve gown." Taking a few steps back, Armigardi displays a dummy draped in a gorgeous silver and gold gown that falls in silken waves. It has capped sleeves, a shining sash, and is surprisingly breathtaking and stylish. I instinctively gasp at the amazing sight.

Personally, its a little too showy but nevertheless, my head stylist helps me into it, calling in the rest of my stylist team which is made up of three other women.

One of the women, Mylei **(pronounced Mie-lae)** fixes my hair into a brown bun, decorating my hair with a string of pearls that wraps around it.

"Ah," says Armigardi. "Now look in ze mirror." I obey him and my eyes widen. The makeup is clear and stunning but I barely recognize myself. I represent technology but I am so bright, brilliant as the stars. It's an unnatural feeling but a very comfortable dress.

"And of course, that's only one of the tour outfits!" squeals a blue-haired stylist named Saphro.

I thank them and then usher them out, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

And as try as I might, I can't find myself.

Soon, it seems we are becoming close to District 12 and I exit my room-but little do I notice the dark shadow behind the door, unknown and unseen.


End file.
